


The Soul

by TheGirlWhoHeldOn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Ancient History, Angel Siblings, Angelic Grace, Angels, Angels Are Watching Over You, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Gen, Heaven, Hell, Historical, Memories, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mythology - Freeform, Pre-Lazarus Rising, Reincarnation, Religion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Souls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWhoHeldOn/pseuds/TheGirlWhoHeldOn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When Castiel saw Dean’s soul for the first time, it occurred to him quickly that it wasn’t the first time he had seen it..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Ummm...I don't know. This is the first time I tried to do a complex story with big words and personal head-canons. Critique is appreciated, since I have no beta unfortunately. Anyone likes this can message me about becoming a beta, if you like.

When Castiel saw Dean’s soul for the first time, it occurred to him quickly that it wasn’t the first time he had seen it. In fact, he had seen the almost blinding brightness of this soul before. He just couldn’t seem to remember from where. This almost frightened him, because angels remembered every second of their existence. Déjà vu or forgetfulness was only something humans suffered from. So, to find something so familiar and not know how he knew it puzzled him.

It wasn’t until Castiel found himself in Naomi’s clutches four years later did he remember. With her instrument, bloody in her pale hands, drilling into his vessel, pain lancing through his body and screams filling the white room around him, he remembered.

*

The first time he saw it, he was sitting on his perch that overlooked the Earth. He wondered for many days over how a soul so untainted could be among such darkness. Everything was so dark with his Father’s creations these days, and his Father was not pleased about it. In fact, he planned on drowning his planet and bring new life, pure life. At first, Castiel was concerned that the soul would be killed along with almost everything else, but thankfully his Father made sure it wasn’t so. He had his Chosen save this soul, along with the other souls that were deemed worthy. It, along with its counterpart, was brought onto the boat to be saved along with the other innocents. When the water was gone and the Earth was beautiful and alive again, the soul lived on many years until its body died of old age. Castiel was so thankful, he gave thanks for five human years before carrying on as normal.

He remembered spotting the soul again, many thousands of years later, after the Son was killed and popularity in his Father had risen. The man was human now, which came as a shock to a curious Castiel. Usually it takes tens of thousands of years for the soul to mature enough to become His most precious creation. He assumed that the purity of this soul moved it along faster then most. Its counterpart was also with the soul; apparently, it was never far behind. According to Anael, when Castiel’s interest peaked and when he found the courage to ask questions, they are soul mates. Castiel prayed that the counterpart would take good care of the precious soul it was attached to.

The next time he found the soul, it was in a place that Castiel wish he could take it from. It was in a bustling place, full of sickness and fatigue. Everyone was poor, starving, dying quicker then humans should. However, the humans were coping well; they were discovering medicines, helping each other. They were surviving. Thankfully the soul and its counterpart were of the same. They survived, and they lived simply. Castiel ignored the fact that they did not believe or worship his Father. It didn’t matter really, for he knew that this soul was sacred to his Father and he would find his way around eventually…Castiel should have realized from this life that this soul would never live by rulebook. After all, instead of sticking to the rules of the religion it followed, it stole and saved the life of its counterpart.

This continued to happen for many lifetimes. The soul would be reincarnated, the counterpart would follow, they’d both mature in either a small or big way, and then the soul and its counterpart would die. Every life was different to the one before it, either with a different gender, culture or circumstance. This helped the soul grow wise and helped soften the edges of it. And, after the soul grew weary or grew far too much over a certain amount of time, it got to rest in Heaven, with its counterpart beside it. Every time this happened however, they never stayed too long from the Earth. They were too excitable and stubborn to do so.

Castiel watched from afar with fascination whenever he could spare the time. Unfortunately he didn’t have enough of it, what with training to lead a garrison and keeping his siblings out of trouble. Castiel missed many lifetimes the soul had, which caused a discomfort in his Grace…but thankfully, he did manage to see quite a few.

In one, the soul and its counterpart were lords that ruled over a small land that ended up catching fire. In another life, the counterpart died of a sickness and the soul followed soon after, by self-destructive means. In another, the two were born and died in a job that they loathed, but somehow learned to find happiness. In another, the soul was unhappy for all of its days because it saw itself as an abomination for loving a certain person, a fishmonger who had black hair and blue eyes. In another, the soul and its counterpart owned a good business, had families of their own and then the soul died of a heart attack in its old age.

Those were just some of the many lives the soul and its counterpart lived and grew. Again, Castiel wasn’t able to manage catching all of them. That irked Castiel more then he’d ever admit. But like the soul, he moved on and tried to grow.

By the 1800’s, a time where the humans bloomed and cultivated, Castiel was completely enamored with the soul. The counterpart was interesting too, but not as interesting as the soul was. The soul was beautiful and had grown so much. It had become less pure, less bright, but it still matured and remained strong. It fascinated Castiel, and that was dangerous.

Many of his siblings told him so. Uriel tried to distract him with strategies and weapons. Balthazar once told him outright that it wasn’t smart, what he was doing, but he was ignored. Rachel and Hester gazed at him with scrutiny whenever Castiel came back from checking on the soul, but they never said a thing to him. Samandriel and Inias were the only curious ones, the only ones who would ask what he was doing and whom he was gazing at. Castiel never told them.

While Castiel held his siblings in the highest regard, he found himself in a piece of mind where he simply no longer believed or listened to the things they told him. He didn’t want to think about what his superiors would think of his interest. He didn’t want to think about the fact that he might be considered to be akin to Anael, who Fell as a direct result of her interest in humans and whose soul was just beginning to grow on Earth. He couldn’t bring himself to think about any of that. All he could think about were about his siblings, and about the brightest soul he had ever seen.

*

This interest came to a head during one of the soul’s lives, during a dark time in human history. War was shaking their world and all the people seemed to know was pain and bleakness. Even the happiest and the brightest had weight on their shoulders. The soul was no exception.

He, a man in this life, was happily married to a lovely woman and had a few children. He had lots of money and was content with his life. Until the war found his way into his life.

The soul’s counterpart, also a man, decided to sign up for the war ahead. The soul of course followed, and became a soldier for his country and the defender of his friend. Together they almost survived the war…that was until the soul was captured. He was brought to enemy lines, and was doomed to suffer for at least 2.3 years. With the bright soul tied up, with its body trembling and bleeding and naked, Castiel suddenly felt a pang of _something_ in his being. It was new and oh so terrible. He hated the…thing immediately, and wanted it gone. And as the angel looked upon the soul as it screamed at the torture being done to it, Castiel realized what he would have to do to remove it.

That was the first time Castiel set foot on God’s Earth without permission or orders. He had no reason to ask for the vessel he did, or an approved motive to break into the camp that held the soul. But he did it anyways, not being able to help himself. The pressure in his Grace was overwhelming, and he needed to get rid of it as soon as possible. And from his observations of the humans, Castiel knew this was the only way.

So he asked for a vessel from a devout man within the camp the soul was in. When the man asked why, Castiel tried to remain as vague yet unquestionable as possible. It was a hard task, but eventually the man gave in and let the angel use him.

From there Castiel somehow was able to make his way to where the captives were being held and was able to convince everyone of his authority and legitimacy. He was soon inside the room where at least a dozen souls were held, and while that made Castiel grimace, he could not save more then one. He had to do what he must, and then get out as quickly as possible. Before his superiors notice him gone.

It took barely any time at all to track down the soul. He was as bright as ever, despite his sad eyes and drawn face. Castiel was immediately drawn to him. He strode over without a second thought and only stopped when he was a few inches from the man. The soul was obviously uncomfortable with this and made it clear. “What do you want?” he growled, not looking away from Castiel’s, his vessel’s, face.

“I’m here to take you away.”

The man’s face didn’t change, and Castiel frowned.

“Aren’t you happy?”

“Just…just do it quickly would you?” the man whispered, his eyes hard but his soul crying.

Castiel frowned even deeper, if that was possible, but didn’t bother to clear his own confusion. Instead he brought his fingers up and placed them gently on the man’s forehead. The man flinched, but didn’t do much else as he waited for Castiel to act.

Castiel did so, quickly. He flew them away from the helplessness and the dirt, and he flew them to where the soul’s current home. It was beautiful, with its white paint and blue shutters. The lawn was wet with dew, since morning was on its way, and the air was clean and sharp. The man breathed this in rapidly, his eyes wide as he scanned his surroundings.

“Where are we?”

“We are currently in front of your place of residence.”

“How about—“

“Your counterpart is already in his place of residence. He was discharged from the battle almost a year ago.”

The soul didn’t say anything more. The face that had been rigid and unforgiving now was open and enchanted.

“…How did you…?”

“I flew you here.” Castiel explained, feeling the pressure that once held him down lift as he watched the man’s face. Castiel even felt the corner of his mouth begin to lift in satisfaction. How strange.

“…If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.” The man whispered, walking slowly forward to the house in front of him.

Castiel nodded, and went to take his leave (he had been gone for far too long already) when something stopped him. A whisper in the dark night. Castiel’s head tilted to hear it better and it was only then did he hear the repeated mutterings of, “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Castiel pretended that he didn’t feel a pang of something in his human chest at the words.

When he finally returned to heaven, in what felt like a blink of an eye later, he came back to something strangely unsettling. Balthazar, one of Castiel’s closest ‘friends’ if such a thing existed for angels, appeared the instant he arrived on his perch. That wasn’t the unsettling part. There was something in Balthazar’s Grace, something cloudy and gray. It was expanding and was in massive turmoil. It tumbled and spun like the eye of a storm.

Before Castiel could ask about his condition, Balthazar began to speak.

_You shouldn’t have done that Brother._

_Why not? I saved him Balthazar. I saved the brightest soul on Earth from one of the cruelest fates._ Castiel inquired, and if he had a face to frown with or a head to tilt he would have done so.

_You still shouldn’t have done it!_ Bathazar cried, his voice booming and big, but never accusing. _Because now—_

But before his Brother could explain, many more angels were suddenly occupying the same space he and Balthazar were in. In a flurry they all came at Castiel, surrounding him quickly and blocking his vision with red. He went to scream, but before he could everything went black.

*

When he awoke, he didn’t look back down on the humans. He never sought out the brightest soul on Earth. In his memory, all the moments he spent watching his Father’s creations was instead spent doing his proper duties. He remained a soldier, a loyal one, and he followed every order. He became beloved, and respected, and not once did he feel or think a thing he wasn’t supposed to.

No one else did either. No other angel said a word about Castiel’s obsession with that one lovely soul. They didn’t because they simply didn’t remember to.

*

Many years past before Castiel met the soul again.

The angel was ordered by his superiors to take a fleet down into Hell and to raise The Righteous Man from perdition. Of course Castiel was quick to follow orders, and within seconds he had angels flanking him as they descended.

For thirty years they fought hard and true, fighting blackened souls and putrid monsters that used to be human. Many went down fairly quickly, but that didn’t stop them from taking down Castiel’s siblings as they did.

By the time thirty years had past, the angels were a small yet fierce group of ten, Castiel included. He was barking orders and trying to save an angel’s existence when he felt it. A pain that spread through his Grace and made him want to collapse and even weep. He felt The Righteous Man’s soul break and give in into the darkness of Hell.

Castiel felt rather then saw the angels surrounding him begin to fly away. They were giving up. They thought it was over. They had no faith in the Righteous Man.

Castiel had enough faith for all of them.

He trudged on, fighting when he could and flying away when he knew he couldn’t. Thankfully one sibling remained with him, a sister named Sariel. They hadn’t talked much over the millennia they had both existed within, but they both had faith in their Father and his children. That was what kept them going when their Grace spilled and their spirits were close to breaking.

This went on for ten more years. Dean Winchester’s soul kept on fracturing, and Castiel felt it resound in his Grace every single time. He did not ask Sariel if she felt it too. It didn’t seem to matter at the time. Especially since they were so close to saving the Righteous Man.

Sinful pride, and another strange thing that made him elated with energy and power, filled Castiel when finally after ten long years they finally found the soul.

He fought off the final barrier of demons to find Dean Winchester, carving into an innocent young woman’s soul. He hadn’t cared all that much at the time, just felt a tiny hint of pity towards the girl, but the details were burned into his mind to ponder years later. She was barely twenty-nine, and she had sold her soul for the chance to go to university and break away from the years of poverty her family had suffered through.

But at that moment, when Castiel first gazed upon the man’s soul, it didn’t matter. What mattered was brightness of the soul. It was so beautiful and bright, nothing like Castiel has seen before. It was beautiful, and deserved to be saved.

And it was also...familiar. Very, very familiar. He felt like he had seen this soul before.

Which of course wasn’t the case, since he remembered every soul he had ever laid eyes on (which were very few) and none of them were this one. Yet...

This forgetfulness shook him, but he shrugged it off as Dean Winchester looked up from his entertainment. He hissed at Castiel, and immediately took a fighting stance. He probably felt the unending purity radiating from Castiel, and that put him on edge.

Despite any edge Dean Winchester had, any training his suffered through, any practice he had, it was all for naught. Within a few hours Castiel grabbed the Righteous Man’s tainted soul and surrounded him in Grace. The soul screamed and cursed, and still fought despite the fact that the war was won.

He nodded to Sariel, who stood by watching the whole interaction. Her Grace rippled and waved and became a bright yellow at the nod.

They both pushed off the blood-soaked ground and flew up. It was going to be so much easier to emerge from Hell then it had to fight their way in. They flew, and fought when need be, and the soul inside Castiel also fought and struggled. However, as Castiel’s Grace polished and nurtured it, the soul began to slow and slump.

It was halfway through Hell when Sariel fell. She insisted that Castiel keep flying, to get away before it was too late. She followed close behind, but not close enough for Castiel to save her when demons surrounded and overwhelmed her. Thankfully though, she was able to take many demons down with her. She was able to slay enough for Castiel to get away. In retrospect, if it weren’t for her, he never would have made it out of Hell.

He was prayed for her to his Father for months after Hell.

He reached Earth several human hours afterwards. He was weakened, and so tired, but he trudged on. He had to finish what he started, for the siblings that had fallen and for the soul in his hands that was tainted.

He flew to where Dean Winchester’s body was buried, and drew the soul away from his Grace. It was shining as brightly as Castiel would have imagined it before Hell. It was so bright that it took more strength then he would have deemed necessary to pull the soul away.

Dean Winchester didn’t seem to be having it.

He tried to cling to the Grace, whining lowly and darkening with turmoil as he was drawn away. Castiel remained firm however; with a small hiss he was able to sever the connection between them, and held Dean Winchester loosely away from him.

The soul didn’t like this. It screeched and cried, and tried it’s hardest to fight its way back. It was stubborn to say the least. That didn’t stop Castiel from bending down and gently laying it back into its current vessel. The soul seemed to be temporarily calmed, noticing the familiarity it was suddenly surrounded with. While it was distracted, Castiel began to process of binding the soul and the body together.

It was slow process, and the soul screeched its disbelief when it began. It sparked red and yellow, and a hint of blue as it tried its damnedest to make its way back to Castiel.

Castiel moved forwards anyways; he stitched together the soul and vessel, taking care with every stitch. The thread was made of Grace and required much energy, energy he didn’t think he had. Which was why he took all the more care to what he was doing.

After a short time, a week in human measurement, the soul and the body were one once more. The soul was finally relaxed now, content in its home. It was a restless pink inside and if the body was alive the human would be humming.

Thankful that the soul was no longer squirming, Castiel finished the work by awaking the body into life once more. Before the human even began to gasp in air once more, or in this case, dirt, Castiel quickly flew back to heaven.

It was only after he’d reached his perch and after he had rested for a few human hours did he remember to call out for all of Heaven to hear; _Dean Winchester is saved._

*

It didn’t take all that long for the soul to find its way back into Castiel’s life; after all, two of its many traits were stubbornness and loyalty.

It didn’t take all that long for Castiel to become completely enamored with Dean Winchester.

That probably should’ve made Castiel question.

*

For the next few years, Castiel never truly thought about the familiarity he had felt for Dean when he first rescued him. It didn’t matter in the face of the Apocalypse, the Leviathan and Raphael.

And when Cas had all the time in the world in Purgatory and was finally able to think about it, it only left him more confused. He had no idea why he had felt so close to the man when he rescued him from Hell. There was no reason to.

It frustrated the angel, so he simply gave up the train of thought and shoved it into the back of his mind. There it would’ve stayed for only God knew how long…

Until Naomi.

When he first found his way to the White Room, no memories of Dean or other past incidents returned to his head. It was only during one of the times where she strapped him to a chair and drilled into him did they come.

Naomi had hit something in his head with her angelic drill, and a few memories came to him. Places he’d never been, people and angels and demons he’d never heard of, and incidents that never should have happened hit him like a train. His Grace screamed, even though the memories didn’t hurt all that much. It was the shock, the anger, the grief.

He had done all those things, he had been to those places…so why didn’t he remember?

He knew why.

Before he could attack Naomi with his sudden energy and anger, one last memory hit him. A soldier, in a war that he should’ve never entered, and his words. _Thank you, thank you, thank you…_

Castiel recognized that man. No, that _soul_. It was the brightest soul he’d ever seen…

_Dean_.

That was all he could think before everything went cold and dark.

When he came back to himself hours later, he was back on Earth. He didn’t remember anything from his visit with Naomi.

*

Several times this happened to Castiel. Over and over he’d remember different memories, different moments, and over and over he’d forget. It was a terrible cycle, and the angel hated it. He wanted nothing more then to be able to look into the eyes of Dean and know that Castiel had been watching over him for his whole existence, and to be able to tell him so.

Unfortunately this wasn’t how it worked out.

At least, not until the night of the crypt. The night Castiel finally broke free from Naomi’s chains.

It was wonderful, and horrifying, and so surreal to look at Dean and see the thousands of years behind him. To see almost all of his reincarnations, to see all of his acts of courage and love throughout ages. To know that he had known this soul since he himself was a fledgling, to grow together. Most of all, it was simply humbling to know that twice he was taught love, and it was twice through Dean.

He didn’t say any of that though, no matter how much he wanted to. After all, he needed to cure the poison he spread throughout the world, and he needed to give Dean peace somehow while doing so. He had no choice in either regard. And unfortunately, telling Dean of their past together would not give the human peace.

So when Dean asked, “What broke the connection?”, Castiel gave an answer that would be better then the alternative, and then he ran.


End file.
